


In Dreams, You're Mine

by Slime_Qween



Category: Black Flag (Band), Danzig (Band), Punk Rock RPF, Rollins Band (Band), The Misfits (Band)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Boners, Feelings Realization, HomoAngst, Literal Sleeping Together, Loser Futon, M/M, Secret Crush, Self-Hatred, Sleepovers, Sudden Homo Feelings, and there was only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:08:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29712111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slime_Qween/pseuds/Slime_Qween
Summary: Reunited by chance, bffs Henry and Glenn plan to spend a quiet evening together watching tv. As the night progresses, Henry makes a shocking discovery that threatens to alter the course of their friendship forever.
Relationships: Henry Rollins/Glenn Danzig
Kudos: 3





	In Dreams, You're Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a WIP for a good long while, but like everyone else I have been Struggling and have only just given it the final edit. Personally I think it has some of my better recent writing in it, I hope you enjoy.  
> The time setting is mid- to late-80’s, so even though Misfits and Black Flag are both tagged this would have been after both of those bands had ended.

It was incredibly rare that Henry had days off while touring, by his own design. A constant, consistent stream of work felt vital for his well being; having downtime made him nervous and agitated. However, there was sometimes no accounting for other people, and due to a cancelled talking show lining up just so in his schedule, he found himself with two whole days of nothing. Through further coincidence, this put him in the same town at the same time as his dear friend, Glenn Danzig.

Henry was staying in a friend-of-a-friend’s spare room, a closet-sized box with only a ratty futon and an old television for furnishings. In a typical move, Glenn had invited himself over, saying there was something he wanted to watch on television; it would be a “tv party,” he said, in an uncharacteristic display of humor.

The day of the “party,” Henry found himself becoming increasingly restless. A strange feeling of unease settled over him and he found himself preoccupied with cleaning his tiny room and arranging its two pieces of furniture. He attempted to dust the top of the tv with one of his shirts and fussed with the position of the futon, attempting to find a better alignment between it and the tv before moving it back into its original position. He scrutinized the amount of dirt that covered the single narrow window in the room before deciding to not to use any more clothing as cleaning rags. He packed his few belongings back into his bag, hoping to improve the look of the dingy room, but as soon as he finished he began to worry that having everything packed would make him look unfriendly somehow and he quickly unpacked a few things and placed them around the room in an effort to appear...casual? The fact that he couldn’t put a name to his sudden distress annoyed him. Sure, he was a naturally tidy person, but the fact that he couldn’t find satisfaction or purpose in the activity disturbed him. Despite wanting to see his friend, he couldn’t shake the feeling that a disaster was about to occur. He was alone with his unsettled thoughts until evening, when he heard the doorbell ring. He was already out of his room when his host called to him to come downstairs. As he reached the top landing of the stairs he saw Glenn standing in the open door with a pizza box in his hands, and something contracted in his chest. Glenn looked the same as ever: short, sullen, solidly built. He’d been working out, Henry noticed idly. Once downstairs, he greeted his friend and they exchanged pleasantries with his host, who was on his way out for the evening and wouldn’t return until the next day. Henry led Glenn up the stairs to his little room and showed him inside. His restlessness had dissipated somewhat, but it was now joined by a feeling he couldn’t place. It was something close to excitement, but not quite. The ambiguousness of his feelings bothered him and he was glad when Glenn switched on the tv, distracting him. If there was one thing you could count on to stop independent thought, it was television.

———

“So what’s this movie even about?” Henry asked, after they had gotten comfortable on the futon.

“Vampires.” Glenn answered, as if that were the only reason he needed to watch anything.

Henry raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“You seen it before?”

“Yeah, tons of times. I wanna show it to you.” Glenn said. He was being unusually talkative tonight.

“What, you gonna make me write a book report about it?” Henry teased, reaching for the pizza box.

“Yeah,” Glenn replied, after a pause. “I wanna know what you think of the ending. Make sure you watch it all the way through.”

“Ah, so I should have gotten my notepad out. You want some pizza?”

Glenn smiled, just a tiny little smile, but seeing it made Henry happy all the same.

———

They were roughly thirty minutes into the movie when Glenn started to doze.

Henry noticed Glenn’s eyes starting to close as the movie’s characters explored a cobweb-bedecked mansion. Henry nudged him with his elbow.

“Wake up, you’re gonna miss your naked vampire girls.”

“I am awake,” said Glenn, annoyed. “And there’s no naked girls, this is a classy movie.”

Henry watched as one of the actresses was frightened by a rubber bat and said nothing.

Moments passed. The film played on and eventually went to commercial. Henry felt Glenn start to slump against him. The futon was narrow and they had to sit very close to avoid falling off. They had tried to sit a few inches apart out of politeness, but now that Glenn was starting to fall asleep he was leaning on Henry. Henry nudged him again.

“C’mon, wake up. You’ll miss the movie.”

“I’m not sleeping,” Glenn mumbled, sounding half awake.

Henry rolled his eyes and reclined a little, getting comfortable. If Glenn wanted to sleep through the movie, that was fine with him. Maybe he fell asleep, Henry could sneak over and change the channel to something a little less...questionable. Still, if Glenn went to sleep they wouldn’t get much chance to hang out, which Henry had really been looking forward to. But if he was falling asleep this fast he must need it. Poor guy. Henry glanced at his friend, who now looked dead asleep beside him. He felt a little pang of sympathy; the stress of touring was obviously taking its toll. It’d be best just to let him sleep.

Glenn’s head was now resting on Henry’s shoulder at an uncomfortable angle. Henry nudged him gently, trying to prod him into a less contorted position. Glenn mumbled in his sleep and rolled over onto Henry. He was now laying half on top of Henry with his head tucked into the crook of Henry’s neck and his left arm thrown out across his chest. Henry felt a sensation of mild panic that only increased when Glenn moved again, shoving his thigh between Henry’s legs. Henry made a sound between a squeak and a gasp as Glenn’s muscular thigh pressed against his groin. He tried to squirm away to protect his sensitive areas, but it only served to create uncomfortable friction. He tried to disentangle himself from Glenn’s limbs, but the more he tried to escape the more trapped he became.

“Glenn. Glenn, wake up,” Henry whispered, trying to shake him awake but having little success. Glenn mumbled in his sleep and snuggled his face into Henry’s neck.

“Glenn, get off me before you knee me in the balls,” Henry snapped, not bothering to whisper any more. Glenn did not wake up, but moved again in his sleep, pulling Henry into an awkward side-hug. At this point, Henry was having a hard time believing that his friend was actually asleep, and suspected that this was all part of some bizarre prank, which in itself was odd, given Glenn’s seemingly nonexistent sense of humor.

“I know you’re awake, knock it off,” Henry said, trying again to shift his friend off him. Glenn grumbled loudly and gripped Henry’s arm, refusing to be dislodged.

“Come on, man, move it. This isn’t funny.” Glenn sighed in his sleep, his breath tickling Henry’s neck. This was getting uncomfortable. Glenn was heavy, and his breath was hot against Henry’s skin. A persistent itch started at the back of Henry’s skull and traveled downward to settle at the base of his spine. The faint glow from the television illuminated Glenn’s face and Henry found himself staring. The blue light from the tv combined with the cheesy horror movie soundtrack gave the scene an unreal quality, and Henry found he couldn’t look away. There was something urgent and furtive driving his desire to look at his friend’s sleeping face, like there was a secret he could learn by studying Glenn’s face in the dark, and he needed to memorize every line and angle before the opportunity disappeared forever. His head rested heavily on Henry’s shoulder, hair falling over his eyes, lips slightly parted, revealing his teeth…

Henry jumped in surprise as the tv suddenly blared out an advertisement for cleaning fluid. His shock subsided as he realized the movie had gone to commercial, and he saw the room around him like someone waking up from a deep sleep. He felt the heavy weight of Glenn’s body draped over him, along with a far more familiar but deeply horrifying sensation of arousal. His cock was half-hard against Glenn’s thigh, which was still pushed between his legs. Henry realized queasily that if Glenn were to wake up now, he would absolutely be able to feel it and, knowing what he knew about his friend, there was no way that this would end well. Henry lay frozen, mortified, breathing shallowly through his nose.

The tv played an ad for a water park.

_ Well, I guess he’s actually asleep, _ Henry thought numbly.  _ If he was awake he’d have punched me by now. _

Henry stared at the ceiling, listening to the noise of the television and willing his body to calm itself. The situation might have been funny if it wasn’t so awful, he mused. He tried to reach through his embarrassment and horror and grasp onto some kind of logic, something that would help him make sense of the situation. He tried rationalizing what was happening as a purely physical response, but that ultimately seemed like an incomplete explanation. If nothing else, Henry was an honest person, he couldn’t lie to himself and say this was just some accident of biology. Realization came pouring in like a flash flood, slowly at first, then all in a rush. Events from the past began to come together into a terrible pattern; his giddy admiration that somehow turned into friendship, the immediate, magnetic closeness of their friendship. It felt closer than was really normal for two guys, now that he thought about it. Glenn just made him so...so happy.

The realization made him want to cry. Everything that had felt so fulfilling and  _ right _ about being friends with Glenn now felt sickly and perverse, like he had been tricking Glenn into something disgusting without even realizing it. A record of their friendship unspooled itself in his mind and he was powerless to stop the memories. The little shock of excitement when he saw Glenn after being apart. How natural it felt being around him. How satisfying it was on the rare occasions he was able to get Glenn to crack a smile. The elation and disbelief he had first felt when he had realized that someone as cool as Glenn really wanted to be his friend. He still felt it, he realized with a grimace. He’d felt it tonight, when he saw Glenn standing in the doorway and knew that he was there because he really wanted to see Henry, his  _ friend. He even brought me pizza, _ Henry thought despairingly. He’d single handedly ruined one of the best friendships he’d ever had, and he hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it. How could he ever go back to normal after this, how could he look Glenn in the face and pretend he didn’t think about _ kissing him? _ Henry’s breath caught in a little whine as he finally put words to what he’d been feeling for months, if not years. A little part of him was honestly embarrassed that it had taken him this long to figure it out. He had hoped that he’d had better insight into his feelings than that, but apparently not.  _ Yeah, you’re just really good friends, _ he thought darkly.  _ That’s why you always want to be close to him, and try to make him laugh, and find ways to touch him, and think he smells good...moron.  _ In his defense, Glenn did smell pretty good. Like, ridiculously good for a guy who spent so much time in graveyards. Henry bit the inside of his cheek and tried to force that thought back into the dark. Now was not the time.

_ I can’t think about this now. I can’t do this now. _

He stared at the ceiling and tried to listen to the television, but the music and dialogue blurred together into incomprehensible noise. A lump was forming in his throat and he tried to swallow it down but it only grew, threatening to choke him. His eyes stung and his vision blurred, the light cast on the ceiling melting into a wash of pale, watery colors. His scalp prickled and his palms itched as he clenched and unclenched his fists. He could feel sweat beading on his upper lip. And all the time he felt the heat and heaviness of Glenn’s body pressing against his, and the unrelenting, unforgivable pulse between his legs.

Glenn mumbled in his sleep and Henry snapped his head around to look; he was so keyed-up that the tiny, breathy sound carried the same force as a shout.

_ Stop. Don’t think about it. Don’t look at him. _

He couldn’t look away. Their faces were inches apart, it would take only a quick movement for Henry to be on top of him, to kiss him, touch him, crush their bodies together. Wild thoughts sprung up unbidden and Henry crushed them with the disgust of someone crushing a roach. His heart hammered against his ribs. His cock twitched and stiffened at the feeling of Glenn’s warm breath on his neck, the soft sound of a sigh.

_ This isn’t me, I don’t want this. God, Glenn, please forgive me. _

His stomach lurched as Glenn moved in his sleep, his body stiffening in a stretch and relaxing slowly.

_ Please, please don’t wake up,  _ Henry thought desperately.  _ Please, you don’t need to see me like this. You can’t— _

Glenn grasped blindly at Henry’s shirt, twisting and pulling the soft fabric into his fist. Henry felt his heart stop and a high, desperate sound escaped him. Glenn pulled his hand back, still holding onto Henry’s shirt, dragging the fabric slowly across his skin. Henry’s body jerked involuntarily at the sensation, shame pulsing through him. Just the feeling of Glenn pulling on his clothes made him feel like he was about to pass out and he hated himself for it. He couldn’t stop thinking of Glenn, on top of him and tugging on his clothes, but wide awake this time; Henry imagined him as impatient and grouchy as ever, but with his hair mussed and high color in his cheeks.  _ Take this off, stop making me wait, _ said Imaginary Glenn, tugging Imaginary Henry’s shirt off in a huff.

_ Oh no. Oh god no. _

Henry squeezed his eyes shut and focused all his brain power on thinking about nothing. He pictured a featureless white cube and tried to put himself inside it. No thoughts, no sensations, everything blank and clean.

Gradually, his breathing started to slow. He started to come back to himself, bit by tiny bit.

The end credits of the movie had started to play.

_Oh no,_ Henry thought sadly. _I won’t be able to tell him how it ended._ _He’s going to be mad that I wasn’t paying attention._

The white cube was suddenly replaced in his mind’s eye with an image of Glenn, snuggled warm and sleepy against Henry’s chest, his expression soft and content.

_ You were supposed to keep watching, whattaya mean you just stared at me all night?  _ Teased his imaginary version of Glenn, instead of knocking his teeth out like the real Glenn would if Henry made such an admission.  _ Yeah, that’s real cute, _ Henry imagined Glenn saying to him as he cuddled in closer.  _ I’m still mad at you.  _ He didn’t sound mad, in Henry’s fantasy. He was only teasing, being...cute. Cute in a way that was totally out of character for the real Glenn, Henry realized shamefully. And yet the fantasy played on, as the real Glenn slept peacefully on Henry’s chest.

_ This is wrong. _

In his mind’s eye he saw Glenn touching his chest, teasing, trying to get a rise out of him.

_ He’d hate me if he knew. _

Glenn was kissing him on the mouth, biting his lower lip, working his way down Henry’s neck.

_ He has every right to hate me. _

He was kissing Henry’s neck, biting, sucking, working on him like he was trying to leave a bruise.

In the real world, Henry was now fully hard and Glenn’s thigh was still pressed up against his cock.

He began to lose consciousness as the 11 o'clock news played in the background. The events of the day blurred and lost detail, leaving him with only a sense of pointless anguish and a deep physical ache. The mindless chatter from the tv melted into white noise as he lost sense of where he was, only aware of a heavy weight on his chest and the sound of deep breathing that was not his own. The national anthem played faintly through the television as he finally submitted to sleep, followed by the high tone that signaled the end of the broadcast day.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor, poor Henry. I have some ideas for a second chapter where things go somewhat better for him, if there's interest I might make it a priority to finish. Also I always find it adorable that he calls his spoken word performances "talking shows." Do younger people know what the tv channel sign-off looked like or am I now officially Old?


End file.
